


In Deep Silhouette

by Anonymous



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 19:57:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9400757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It's MACUSA's annual masquerade and Newt finds himself obliged to attend.In a dress. It's Queenie's idea, he swears.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for [this](http://fantasticbeasts-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/1184.html?thread=1744032#cmt1744032) prompt in the kinkmeme: 
> 
> My Kingdom for some good old fashioned masquerade shenanigans ending with someone getting plowed in a bathroom/alcove/office. I'm partial to Graves/Newt or Graves/Tina but open to all options. Up to the filler if it's that kind of party or if there's the risk of getting caught as well as identified.

 

Queenie, as they say, lame puns and all, has the magic touch.

 

Sitting meekly in front of her vanity, Newt wonders, for possibly the thousandth time, what possessed him to say yes. Prolonged exposure to Erumpent musk, perhaps? He makes a note to conduct a more extensive research into the subject once they are done with this… experiment.

 

“Basically the rule,” Queenie is saying, flicking her wand briskly above Newt’s head, “is to try and keep your identity secret without making too drastic changes.”

 

“Too drastic?” Newt murmurs miserably. “ _This_ is not too drastic?”

 

“I mean using Polyjuice and the likes.” Now she is frowning at a particularly errant lock of hair that refuses to succumb to her treatment. “That would be cheating, of course, not to mention illegal. By the way, you won’t be the first person who’s ever attempted something like this, so don’t worry about it too much.”

 

“Except Auror Leverenz is a Metamorphagus and she does have the height and build to carry it off.” Tina walks into the room in a beautiful black sequin dress and Newt stares, amazed, at the long red curls that now frame her heavily made-up face. “She made a very convincing dandy last year, tailcoat and all. Fooled even Picquery. But our Newt here will be a little too tall for a girl, won’t he?”

 

“That’s why you two are going as sisters,” Queenie says cheerfully. “Close your eyes, darling.”

 

Newt promptly obeys. Contrary to her outward appearance, there is nothing flighty or mercurial about Queenie’s magic. It’s all firm strokes and steady, careful handlings, the thickest, softest wool that lingers about his cheeks even after she has withdrawn.

 

“Well,” Tina breathes out, sounding impressed. Newt opens his eyes.

 

They are the first thing he sees, a pair of big, apprehensive eyes, made even more striking yet also beautifully vulnerable with dark shadings and a touch of glitter. His cheeks are pale, the lightest pink with only a hint of his ever-present freckles underneath. His hair, too, is longer, softer, a darker red that rests prettily against his pale throat—and his lips, oh Merlin, his _lips_.

 

“Well, Scamander,” Tina says again, amusement and admiration blending in her voice, “who would’ve thought?”

 

“My point precisely,” Queenie sighs, obviously pleased with herself. “Now will you rise, Miss, so I can see to your dress?”

 

“Really, Queenie,” he mutters under his breath, embarrassed, but follows her instruction nevertheless. A few more swishes and flicks produces a dress that covers his lanky frame in dark green satin, trimmed with black lace. The cut is such as to make him look smaller, less broad in some places and curvier in others. Newt stares at his reflection, the proof of Queenie’s expertise, and almost doesn’t recognise himself if not for the slight stoop of his shoulders.

 

“And a touch of Glamour to complete your transformation,” Queenie finishes with a flourish. It softens the too-sharp angle of his jaw, the high curves of his cheeks, the definite slant of his eyes. Newt blinks again. The pretty woman in the mirror is still there.

 

Tina stands at the other side of him, smiling appreciatively. “Should we say then… _Artemis_?”

 

“But I can’t walk like a lady,” Newt protests as Queenie conjures a pair of black lace gloves and gleaming, silver shoes, both perfect fits. “And definitely not in _these_ shoes.”

 

“Just watch Teeny. She’s an expert at things like this.”

 

“We have to be,” Tina mutters with a shrug. “Disguise and Undercover 101. This trick does help, though.”

 

She taps her wand on his shoes and Newt feels a cool, soothing sensation around his ankles. “A clever little charm, passed down through generations of female Aurors. You’ll be able to move comfortably even in those shoes.”

 

“Thank you,” Newt murmurs, relieved. Making a public appearance in a dress is terrifying enough, even without the threat of losing his balance every time he so much tries to move. “We only have to stay like this until midnight, right?”

 

“Yes, midnight,” Queenie smiles, watching him fondly, “at which point all the spells and Glamour will dissolve, and you’ll find out whom you’ve actually been kissing all night.”

 

“There will be no kissing involved,” Newt says firmly.

 

Queenie affects a small, shocked gasp. “Surely there will be! I’d feel very upset if no one tries to kiss you at least, gorgeous as you look.”

 

“Stop trying to scare him,” Tina says dryly, taking his arm in hers and giving it a little squeeze when she catches the nervous look on his face. “It’s all just for fun, Newt. The best thing about a masquerade is no one really knows who everyone else is. Nobody will know that you are Newt Scamander—and certainly not in this getup—so just enjoy yourself and it’ll be over before you know it.”

 

Well, Newt thinks as he takes the first few careful steps, at least that doesn’t sound too complicated.

 


End file.
